


From The Top

by TN_Night



Series: #JeanMarcoWeek2015 [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drabble, Fluff, JeanMarco Week, M/M, Pianist!Marco, Piano, The JeanMarco in this isn't very prominent..., dammit, oh well, piano teacher!Jean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 21:31:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4237395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TN_Night/pseuds/TN_Night
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having your perfectionist boyfriend for a piano teacher isn't always the best…</p>
<p>Written for JeanMarco week 2015 ^^ Day 1: Begin Again</p>
            </blockquote>





	From The Top

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I wasn't planning to write for this one either but I guess I'm always up for a challenge :P I couldn't really think of anything besides reincarnation for Begin Again but I wanted to be creative, so a drabble about a perfectionist and his boyfriend seemed fitting. I don't know, I'm tired. Probably not as tired as Marco though…I'm rambling. Enjoy :)

 

Soft notes of a beautiful song rang through the air in the small room, the skilled player behind the baby grand slightly swaying back and forth as his fingers gracefully moved across the keys. Beethoven's classic Für Elise sped up and slowed naturally, and the man calmly played it's different moods smoothy as he read from the black and white pages in front of him.

 

The only sound in the practice area was coming from the instrument, that was, until…

 

"Start it from the beginning."

 

Marco stopped playing and sighed. One note. A one note slip up in an otherwise perfect performance. That's all it took for Jean Kirstein, Marco's piano teacher and perfectionist boyfriend, one tiny slip up and he'd tell the poor guy to start all over again. 

 

"But, Jean! I was so close to finishing, you could barely even hear the mistake!"

 

Said man sighed, uncrossing his arms and standing up from the bench he was sitting on beside the other male, "You're already an amazing pianist, Marco, weren't we _aiming_ for perfection here?"

 

He huffed in annoyance, "Yes, fine, but that's the sixteenth time you've stopped me so far for this song alone! I can't get any further if you keep telling me to stop there!"

 

Jean stared at him for a few more seconds before he turned, throwing a, "Just start again," over his shoulder as he paced over to the other side of the room.

 

Marco closed his eyes, his face scrunching slightly in irritation and tiredness as he'd been playing for about five or so hours straight now.

 

They still had three more songs to go through after this. Three songs, all having to be played absolutely perfectly.

 

No matter, he could sleep later. Do this now, sleep later. Do this now, sleep later.

 

He quickly stretched his back out and cracked his knuckles before going back to the ivory white coloured keys, starting over the melody from the top. Once again the notes washed over the previous silence, filling the atmosphere with the classical tune.

 

He got about half way through the song this time, but just when he was confident that he was going to finish his eyes began to burn from the lack of blinking and sleep, the one moment he shut his eyes, a finger was misplaced, which ruined the entire thing. Again. And as always, it was punctuated with a–

 

"Begin again."

 

Marco groaned, this was taking so much time. How had Jean not fallen asleep yet? The older male was stood in the corner, his intense gaze burning into his back so hard the black haired male could feel it through his thick winter sweater, as if his eyes were saying, _"Why can't you just get this perfect so we can actually go to bed?"_

 

Taking a peek at the clock, he saw that the time was currently three a.m on the dot, and with that in the forefront of his mind, Marco began again, playing the piece for the eighteenth time from the top. He barely even noticed when Jean came back over to the bench to sit with him again, watching the movement of his fingers as they travelled across the expanse of the instrument for what was probably the thousandth time that day.

 

The music made them both waver slightly, Marco's body flowed side to side lazily with the music, whereas Jean was being lulled into the tempting pull of sleep by it, nodding off ever so slightly at some parts and being jolted awake when the tempo sped up or the volume increased.

 

But by the end of it they were both relieved, because Marco'd actually managed to make it through the piece without a single mistake. Finally. 

 

Now.

 

Only three more songs to go. 

 

They both seemed to remember that little fact at the same moment, because just when their faces had seemed to relax into an even and content expression, they quickly contorted back to frustrated as they groaned out for the umpteenth time. 

 

The two wallowed in self-pity for a few moments before getting back to it, Marco's hands turning the music sheets and retaking position on the piano and Jean's back straightening so he could carefully assess his boyfriend's rehearsal. 

 

The beginnings of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata sounded from the piano, Marco's eyes barely open enough now to read the papers on the stand in front of him, Jean's eyes bleary and ears just barely registering the sound of the chords being played.

 

A slip up or twelve may've happened so far, but neither of them noticed, all too focused on the blurry picture ahead as small tears surfaced in their tear ducts in their bodies' attempt to keep their eyeballs from drying out. 

 

Jean was, not so surprisingly, the first one to go down, his head falling onto Marco's shoulder as he slept away to the ever slowing sounds of the piano. The younger smiled, resting his head on the other man's and continuing to play out the last few notes before he drifted off as well, the last note still hanging in the air. 

 

Maybe they'd finish tomorrow, for now, they'd sleep.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Or maybe they'll just fall off the bench, which would probably be more realistic.


End file.
